


The Long Way Back

by beadedslipper



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Addiction, Angst, F/M, Friendship, Hallucinations, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Lyrium Withdrawal, Mucho Angst, Protective!Companions, Trust, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beadedslipper/pseuds/beadedslipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyrium creates monsters where none exist.  The Inquisitor is not an abomination or a demon, but right now Cullen can’t tell the difference.  He just knows he needs to defend himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Way Back

**Author's Note:**

> All my other DA:I fics have been written with a loose interpretation of my first Inquisitor, a human warrior, in mind. For this fic to work, I’ve shifted to my second Inquisitor, an elven mage.

Everything hurt.  Cullen’s head throbbed, his muscles ached, and his armor bit into his shoulders.  He was drenched in sweat, panting heavily.  His arms quivered with the effort of bracing himself on his desk.  The room spun.  His bloodshot eyes tracked the shadows where they stretched grasping fingers across the floor.

His lyrium kit sang to him from behind the closed door of his small cabinet, a sultry lure tempting him to just reach out and take the relief that was offered to him.  The demons were close, closer than they’d been since Kinloch hold.

They would find him tonight.

And he would be ready.

\---

Inquisitor Lavellan jogged merrily up the stairs towards Cullen’s tower.  The day’s duties were finally done and she looked forward to pulling her lover away from his work.

Their time together of late had been hard to come by.  What with one thing and another, she’d hardly spoken to him in what felt like weeks.  They still spent nights intertwined, even if just to sleep, and she was pretty close to convincing him to move into the Inquisitor’s quarters permanently.  She just had to get him to let go of his precious chivalry.  It was endearing, but the Dalish had nothing like it so it had caused more than a bit of confusion and miscommunication.

But now she finally had some time.  She had arranged for them to have the whole day tomorrow, working like mad to address anything pressing so that the wheels of the Inquisition could still turn without them both, even if only for a day.  She planned to sequester them away in her quarters, perhaps sneaking out for food and a stroll through the garden when the castle was quiet.  She couldn’t wait.

She burst into the tower, smiling brightly, before coming to an abrupt stop.  Cullen stood before his desk.  He had his sword drawn.  It dangled from limp fingers to dig into the stone floor.  His face was red and sweat-soaked and he looked to be shaking.

“Cullen!” She exclaimed in dismay, hurrying over to him.  His shoulders hunched defensively at the sound of her voice.

“Back demon!” He snarled.  He tried to swing his sword but was too weak to get the point up.  Instead he cast a spray of sparks at her feet, forcing her to jump back.

“Cullen?  It’s me?”  His head hung low.  She had to crouch to see his face.  His eyes were red-rimmed and held no recognition for her.

His arms flexed with effort as he struggled to lift the point of the sword.  “Cullen?”  With a roar of fury he threw the sword from him and she had to sidestep quickly to avoid getting hit.

“Cullen!” She cried.

Only her elven reflexes saved her from taking his belt-knife to the neck.  She ducked under his arm, backing away hurriedly.

He stalked her, fear and dark intent in his gaze.  He clenched his dagger in a white-knuckled fist.

“You will not take me again.” He promised darkly.

“Cullen, whatever you’re seeing right now, it isn’t real.”  She mirrored his steps warily, the two of them circling each other within the confines of the tower in a strange parody of a dance.

He lunged, slashing the air, and she ducked around the desk.  “Save your lies demon, they will not save you now!”

They were at an impasse, each on opposite ends of the desk.  Her heart beat frantically in her chest.  She needed to get through to him before he did one of them a mischief.  “Cullen, listen to my voice.  You know me.”

“Silence!” He roared, throwing the knife.

Instinctively she threw up a barrier, clenching her eyes shut.  She peeked them open when she heard the dagger clatter to the floor.

Cullen was staring at her like she was a monster out of his nightmares.  “ _Mage_.” He hissed with such hatred that she recoiled.  “Abomination!”

With an inhuman snarl, he ripped the desk out of the way and charged her.  Before she could react he had her pinned to the wall by her throat.  His forearm pressed unforgivingly into her neck, cutting off her air.  She stretched, standing on her tiptoes in a useless attempt to relieve the pressure.  Her fingers scrabbled at his arm but he was immovable and unforgiving.

Between his arm and the wall he lifted her until her feet dangled from the floor.  She truly couldn’t breathe now, her entire weight was being supported by the pressure of his forearm.  “Cu..llen…”

He leaned in until they were nose to nose.  He bared his teeth in a snarl.  He was completely unrecognizable from the kind, loving man she knew.

“After all this time, you finally found me.” He hissed into her face.  “But you made a mistake demon.  This time, I am not helpless _.  I_ will kill _you_ this time and you will never plague me again.”

“Cu…llen…ple…ase…”

Her vision greyed around the edges.  She reached trembling fingers out to brush his cheek.  For a moment recognition flashed in his eyes.  But it disappeared again and he used his weight to bear down on her neck.

“What is all of this racket…Commander!”

That sounded like Cassandra’s voice.

“Guards!  Guards!  Help me subdue him!”

There were sounds of a struggle, animalistic roars and grunts.  Pressure was released from her throat and she slumped to the floor.

“You!  Go and fetch Solas or Dorian immediately!  The Inquisitor needs help!”

Her last sight was of blonde hair, tousled just the way she liked it.

Then she knew no more.

\---

When Cullen woke he was in his own bed.  He looked around and spotted Cassandra standing over him, her arms crossed and a displeased expression on her face.

“Cassandra?  What are you doing here?  What happened?”  He grunted at the pain in his muscles when he sat up.

“You do not remember?”

“It’s all rather…hazy.  It feels like it was a…bad day.  I don’t remember getting up here though.”

“You are correct.  When we found you we brought you up here to recover.”  Cassandra seemed stern, even for her.  She never came here.

His eyes narrowed.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

Cassandra’s frown deepened.  “This seemed to have been an especially intense spell.  You were…not yourself.  The Inquisitor came to see you but you did not recognize her.”

Cold fear trickled down Cullen’s spine.  “Is she alright?”

Cassandra seemed hesitant.

“Cassandra.  Is the Inquisitor alright?”

“She is in the infirmary.  Dorian and Solas are seeing to her.”

Cullen immediately slipped out of bed, reaching for his boots and slipping them on.  He started putting his armor on.

“What are you doing?”

Cullen twisted to snap his breastplate into place, ignoring the protests of his body.  “I need to see her.”

“I do not think that is a good idea.”

He looked up to see Cassandra standing before the ladder, her feet spread and her arms still folded across her chest.

“Cassandra, I’m no danger to her.  I just need to make sure she’s okay.”

“She is not even awake yet Commander.  She is recovering.  There is nothing you can do for her right now.”

Cullen blanched.  “Not awake yet?  How bad is it?” He asked in dismay.

Cassandra blinked.  She hadn’t meant to tell him that.  She sighed, standing to the side.  “Very well.  But I will escort you.”

“You don’t need to protect her from me.” Cullen reiterated, starting down the ladder.

“She is not the one that needs protection.”

\---

Cullen barely stepped into the infirmary before he was stopped by the sudden appearance of Sera.  The tiny elf glared up at him.  She bared her teeth, snarling at him and poking her finger firmly into his chest.

“Oy, arsebucket!  You got some pretty big chestnuts to be coming in here!”

“I…I…”

“I, I, I, I, is that all you got?  Say somethin’!”

“In the Qun we do not tolerate those who strike their spouses.  Unless they both consent to it of course.”  Cullen looked over Sera’s shoulder to see just about everyone gathered in the room, obscuring his view of the figure on the bed.

The Iron Bull stood from his perch on a stool that was entirely too small and made his way over to stand behind Sera.  “Do you know what we do to those who strike their spouses?” Bull asked conversationally, smiling disconcertingly.

Cullen looked around the room and saw not a single sympathetic face.  Everyone, Varric, Leliana, Dorian, even Josephine were tense, combat ready.

Cassandra’s heavy hand fell on his shoulder.  “They do not know the whole story Commander.  It does not excuse things, but perhaps you should explain yourself to them.”

Cullen hesitated.  He never wanted this secret to get out.  “I…”

“Enough.” A weak whisper cut through the tension in the room like a knife.

Bull and Sera immediately whipped around.  “Boss.  You’re awake!”

“Are you well?” Solas asked seriously.  Her disembodied voice answered him in a weak affirmative.

“I’m fine.  Please.  Leave us.”

“I’m comfortable here.” Dorian said flippantly.

“No fracking way!” Sera exclaimed.

“Please everyone.  It’ll be fine.  He won’t hurt me.”

Varric and Sera snorted simultaneously.

“Come along everyone.” Leliana said, beginning to usher the reluctant party outside.  “We will leave the Inquisitor and Commander to their conversation.”  As she passed Cullen she met his eyes.  “But we will not be very far.”  She said it like a reassurance but it sounded more like a threat.

Finally they were alone and he could see her clearly.

He stood in the doorway and stared at her where she lay.  What he could see of her arms were littered with scratches and little cuts.  Her throat was angry black and purple in the same size and shape as his forearm.  He wanted to cry.  But if he cried she would comfort him.  She was the one who deserved to be comforted.  She was the one who had almost…

She watched him impassively for a moment before her lips twitched in an approximation of a smile.  “Hello.” Her voice was thin and raspy, like she had an illness in her throat.

“H…hello.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Am I…” He cleared his throat.  “Yes.  Thank you.  Are…are you…” He took a tentative step closer.  She flinched and he froze.

She smiled regretfully.  “Sorry.  I didn’t mean that.  Really.”

He shook his head.  “You have nothing to apologize for.” His voice was thick with self-loathing.

“Cullen…”

“I have no words to adequately apologize for what I’ve done.  I can’t even _remember_ what I’ve done, but the evidence is right in front of me.” He gestured towards her.  “I never wanted to hurt anyone, especially you.  I can only imagine the things I said.

“Cullen.  It’s okay.  I forgive you.”

He could only stare at her in shock.  She forgave him. 

She should be screaming at him, telling him she hated him, that she never wanted to see him again.  But no, she forgave him.  She still wanted to be with him. 

In that instant he had a horrible glimpse of the future.  Maker only knew when the lyrium withdrawal would end, if it ever did.  And she would be right there next to him, no matter what, forgiving him for every time he was too weak or too sick or too delusional to be what she needed.  What happened the next time he lost control of himself?  Would her forgiveness extend to when he actually killed her?  No.  He couldn’t allow that to happen.  He wouldn’t.

He loved her too much to let her die for him.  He was her military commander.  It was his duty to protect her and that made things simple.

“We need to end this.”

“What?” She asked, struggling to keep up with the sudden change in topic.

“This, us.  This needs to end now.”

“Cullen, no, everything is fine.”

“Everything is not fine!” He said sharply.  He waved between them.  “You are lying there because of me.” He steeled himself.  “It’s not worth it.  It’s too difficult.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “You’re lying.”

She was right but his face revealed nothing.  “I can’t be with you any longer.  Our relationship is at an end.”

She stared at him, horror written on her face.

He nodded curtly.  “By your leave Inquisitor.”  He turned and left the room before the look in her eyes and the pain in his heart had him taking back the words.

“Cullen, no, wait!” Her voice chased him all the way down the hall.

\---

Almost two weeks later the Inquisitor sat on her throne in the grand hall.  She was much improved thanks to Solas and Dorian’s tireless efforts to heal her.  She was still weak and tired easily but no one would know it to look at her.  Her blonde hair was back in its intricate braids.  Her eyes were clear and her lavender _vallaslin_ adorned her cheeks, making her look exotic and commanding.  She sat in state, back straight and legs crossed at the ankles.  Her neck was still horribly bruised but her high collar hid it from gossipy courtiers.

So, yes, physically she was much improved.  However, emotionally she was in turmoil.  Since Cullen had ended things between them, she had sought him out multiple times, going to his tower or trying to catch him alone in the war room.  But he seemed to make just as much of an effort to see that they were never alone.  There was always at least one or two soldiers in his tower and when a meeting ended he fled the war room like demons were chasing him.

She was seriously considering cornering him and forcing him to talk to her, listening ears be damned.

She never thought he was actually serious about ending things.  It was just him, in his usual fashion, trying to punish himself.  Quiet words and soft kisses and promises of forgiveness would have him coming around in no time.  But now it looked like she might be wrong.  She had run out of ideas.  She didn’t know how to get through to him.  It was becoming a real problem.

She struggled to turn her focus from Cullen and to the matter at hand.  Currently she was passing judgment and receiving petitions.  Holding court basically.  Josephine stood at the base of the dais to her right, overseeing the proceedings.  Leliana had insisted that someone be with her in the throne room in the case of assassins, so currently Blackwall stood at attention over her left shoulder.

She had been receiving people for close to two hours now.  There were only a couple of petitioners left.  She was looking forward to getting up off of this hard chair and stretching her legs.  Maybe getting in a sparring session with Dorian. 

The last thing she expected was to see Cullen step into place at the base of the dais.  His face was impassive and revealed nothing but she had a bad feeling about this.

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition forces.” Josephine announced to the room.  The look on the ambassador’s face said that she didn’t know why he was here.

Cullen stepped forward.  The Inquisitor watched him warily.  “What is your petition Ser?”

“My lady Inquisitor,” He began, pressing a sincere fist to his heart.  “I must respectfully request to be relieved from my post.  I am no longer fit to command your armies.”

The room erupted in whispers.  The Inquisitor narrowed her eyes.  So that’s how he wanted to play things.  Very well.  If he wanted her to be the Inquisitor and only the Inquisitor, then that’s what she would do.

“What is your reason for this sudden request?” She demanded.

He met her eyes.  His face was clear.  He was sure of his course and determined to see it through.  “I am suffering the effects of an attempt to end my dependence on lyrium.  As a Templar I was conditioned to rely on lyrium.  In an attempt to make my loyalties solely to the Inquisition, I have become unfit.  I am a danger to myself and others.” He announced, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

She struggled to hide her surprise at his candor.  She knew how important it was to him to keep his struggle hidden.  She pursed her lips, resting her chin on her fingertips.  She watched him, searching for signs of doubt.  Perhaps this was just the next step in his plan to punish himself for what he’d done.  He met her gaze squarely.  He truly believed he was doing the right thing.  Poor, stupid martyr.

After a few moments she gestured for silence.  The guards flanking her throne stamped their spears on the floor twice and the room fell quiet.

“Here is the verdict of the Inquisition.  Commander Cullen, your request to be released from your position is denied.” She said firmly.

His eyes widened.  “What?”

“You are forbidden to abandon your post.  Furthermore, you are forbidden from taking up lyrium again.  You will defeat this addiction and you will continue to be the highly reliable and intelligent commander that you have been up to this point.”

“Inquisitor, I beg you to reconsider.”

“The decision is final.  Ambassador.”

Josephine jumped to attention.  “Um, yes, that will be all for today.  We thank everyone for their time and attention.”

The Inquisitor rose to her feet, leaving the dais and making her way towards the door that led to the war room.  She didn’t stop, didn’t look at anyone or answer any questions.  She trusted Josephine to follow her.

Josephine stopped in her office but the Inquisitor kept walking.  She didn’t stop until she was ensconced in the relative quiet and privacy of the war room.  She braced her arms on the table and released a gusty sigh.  She was exhausted.  She was still sore, she hadn’t been sleeping well, and she was terribly heartsick.  She missed Cullen and her duties weighed even heavier on her than before when she had him to support her.

What had just happened in the main hall was maddening.  She wouldn’t allow him to behave this way.  He might leave her, but she wouldn’t let him leave the Inquisition for his stubborn pride.  Not if she had anything to say about it.

The door burst open and Cullen barged into the room.  She looked up sharply.  “Commander.” She greeted, voice flat.

“What was that about?!”

“I could ask you the same question.” She countered, forcing herself to remain calm.  She hadn’t been this close to him since before…everything.

His eyes blazed, but not with anger.  Frustration certainly but also…fear.  What was he afraid of?

“Don’t play coy Inquisitor.  Why didn’t you let me leave?”

“Because it was a foolish request.”

“It is not foolish.  It is necessary.  I’m no use to the Inquisition the way I am!”

She sighed.  “I don’t believe that.  But let’s put aside your potential use to the Inquisition for a moment.  What of your recruits?  Or the veteran fighters?  Or even your friends?  They look up to you Cullen.  They idolize you.  Do you really think they’ll lose respect for you because you’re trying to end your addiction to lyrium?  No!  They’ll only worship you more!”

“You can’t know that.” He argued.  “The Inquisition cannot afford the potential detriment I create.”

“And again, I disagree.  This conversation is moot anyway.  I made my decision in open court.  You’re just going to have to live with it.”

“Overturn the decision!” He cried, leaning over the table.

“No!” She exclaimed, her teal eyes alight.

“Why won’t you just let this go!?”

“Because I can’t!” She cried.  She felt the spark of tears in her eyes and she turned around quickly, standing stiffly, hands clasped behind her back.

He was quiet for a long moment.  “I…”

“Just go.” She said, voice tight with emotion.

If she had turned she would have seen the regret in his eyes.  Since she didn’t, she only heard the door close softly behind him.

She stared out the window at the unforgiving mountains and let the tears fall.

\---

Weeks turned into months.  The bruises on her neck faded but only seemed to make room for the bruises on her heart.  Cullen had made it clear he intended to see this particular decision through.  He abided by her edict in the great hall, though he made no secret of his discontent.  He continued to act as commander and she was right, all of the recruits only loved him more for his struggle.  His addiction to lyrium was common knowledge now and went a long way towards softening their friends towards him.  He provided counsel in the war room and inspired her warriors.

And that was it.

To her he was perfectly cordial and perfectly distant.  It broke her heart.  Not only had she lost his love, she’d also lost his friendship.  That closeness that they’d developed in the infancy of the Inquisition meant as much to her as the more romantic aspects of their relationship.  To lose both in one fell swoop felt too cruel for words.

It was clear he was just as unhappy as she was.  She knew him well enough to take one look at his face and see that he was miserable.  But it didn’t seem to matter.  Cullen was a master of self-sacrifice.  He had decided that this was the best course of action and, whether she agreed or not, he intended to make it happen.

Those closest to them watched them both in concern.  No one liked seeing the normally buoyant Inquisitor so down and, as for Cullen, while he’d never been described as merry, his visible discontent was no easier to watch.

As if that wasn’t enough, once a week Cullen petitioned the Inquisitor to release him from his role as Commander.  He was forced to abide by her decision every time she told him he had to stay, but there was nothing preventing him from trying to get her to change it. 

Every week he asked and every week she denied him, but each time it got harder.  She knew now that it was no longer about being unfit, but rather about getting away.  From the Inquisition, from responsibility, from her.

Every time he was the last petitioner and every time, as soon as the verdict was passed down, she got up from her seat, went into the war room, and cried.

The fifth time Dorian found her that way, curled into a ball against the wall, he put his arm around her shoulders and asked, “Why not just let him go?  If he wants to leave so bad, just say yes.”

She shook her head where it rested on his chest.  “I can’t.  I know it’s not what he really wants.  He’s doing this to punish himself.”

“It’s not like the sorry bastard doesn’t deserve it for hurting you, then or now.” Dorian said, but there was no malice in it.  He loved Cullen just as much as she did.

“You know he didn’t do it on purpose.” She argued for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Maybe not.  But going on like this is only hurting you both.” Dorian said, with uncharacteristic seriousness.

She sniffled but didn’t argue.  “I love him.”

“I know.  And I believe he loves you too.  But sometimes love isn’t enough.”

Dorian didn’t say anything else, just kissed the top of her hair and held her close until her tears dried.

\---

The next week the Inquisitor once again sat in judgment.  This time her head was full of Dorian’s gentle advice. 

Cullen stepped to the front of the line but, before he could open his mouth to make his usual petition, she held up a hand.  The Inquisitor glanced at Josephine before looking back to him.  “Ser Cullen, please join me for a private hearing.”

She ignored the curious whispers of the court.  She rose from her seat and, too confused to protest, he followed her into Josephine’s office.  When the door shut behind them and they were alone, she turned to him.

“Is this really what you want?”

His brow furrowed.  “What?”

“This.  Quitting your post.  Leaving the Inquisition.  Is this really what you want or are you just asking out of stubbornness at this point?”  She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.  She was completely serious.

“Of course it’s what I want.  I’ve been requesting this for weeks, what could possibly make you think this isn’t what I want?”

“I know you.” She said.  His eyes widened in surprise as she took three steps towards him and cupped his cheek in her hand.  Her fingers trembled but her gaze was calm.  This was the first contact they’d had since…that night.  It sent a jolt through him.

Her teal eyes met his golden ones.  “I love you Cullen.  But I won’t chase you anymore.  I respect both of us too much for that.  So, I’ll ask again.  Is this really what you want?”

He looked into her face for a long time, memorizing the familiar features.  Not once did she move or falter.  She just waited for him to make his decision.

“Yes.  This is what I want.”

For a second pain flashed in her eyes.  Then her expression shuttered and she hid behind her court mask.  That hurt.  She never used to need to hide from him.  She stepped away, her hand falling to her side.  “Very well.”  She straightened.  “Ser Cullen, I release you from your commitment to the Inquisition.  Thank you for your excellent service.  You are welcome to stay as long as necessary to get your affairs in order and to secure a replacement.”

He hesitated after she dismissed him, obviously expecting her to make this more difficult.  She just waited, clenching her teeth and digging her nails into her fists to keep the tears at bay.

After he finally left she went straight to Sera.  The elf took one look at her face and said, “Right-o.  Time to get shite-faced.  I’ll get the booze, you get the Bull.”

\---

Cullen stood in his tower, ostensibly packing.  In actuality, he’d been standing over his trunk holding the same pair of breeches for close to ten minutes.  He couldn’t stop thinking about his last conversation with the Inquisitor.  Those were likely the last words he would ever say to her.

The look in her eyes when he told her he wanted to go hurt.  She had never looked at him like that, not even when her throat was bruised and she could barely speak.

“So, you’re runnin’ away huh Curly?”

Cullen spun to see Varric leaning in the doorway.  He turned back to his trunk, placing the breeches inside.  “I’m not running.  I’m doing what’s best for the Inquisition.”

“Dragon shite.”

Cullen whirled in surprise.  “Excuse me?”

Varric rolled his eyes.  “Please.  You’re a military man.  You’ve heard that and worse.  This whole innocent act you’ve got going…”

“Act?”

“…is really starting to get on my nerves.  Like how you’re pretending you don’t know how bad you’re hurting our Inquisitor.  Or how you think we can’t tell that you’re as miserable as she is.”

Cullen sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.  His stubble rasped over his palm.  He hadn’t shaved in too long.

“Well?”

“Maker’s breath Varric…I don’t know what you want me to say.” He spread his arms helplessly.

Varric stumped over, leaning against Cullen’s desk and crossing his feet at the ankles.  “You know, I know you think we all hate you for what you did, but that’s just not true Curly.  Mostly we’re just pissed you didn’t tell anyone it had gotten that bad.  And that you let it get bad enough that you could hurt somebody.”

Cullen flinched in shame.  “That’s why I have to go.  I will not let any of you get hurt because of my weakness.”

“It’s not weakness to need help.” Varric said, idly picking dirt from under his nails.

Cullen frowned, hearing the truth in Varric’s words. 

“Leaving won’t make us safer Curly.  It’ll just hurt us.  The Inquisition needs you to lead the army.  We need you to be our lovable, bumbling, virginal Templar.”

Cullen blushed.  He wasn’t a _virgin_.  Just…reserved.

“And she needs you.  Period.”  Varric pushed off of the desk and headed towards the door.  “Just think about it.”

“…I can’t hurt her again.”

Varric glanced back.  “You won’t.  And I’ll help.”

\---

The Inquisitor groaned against the light on her face, turning to burrow into her pillows.  Her head was _killing_ her.  She opened a baleful eye to glare at Solas, who had come into her room to open the curtains.

“Good morning Lavellan.” He said pleasantly.

“I hate you.”

Solas hummed, holding out a steaming mug.  She could smell elfroot and embrium, two of the main ingredients in his magnificent headache potion.  She had tried to replicate it but it never turned out quite right.  She pushed herself up on one arm, holding out her other one and making a ‘gimme’ motion with her fingers.

Solas turned over the mug and she took greedy gulps.

“Do you still hate me?” He asked, moving around the room, laying out clothes for her and just generally tidying up.

“You’re my favorite person.” She said around a mouthful.  “Remind me never to go drinking with Sera and Bull again.”

“I would, but I doubt it would make any difference.”

She threw a pillow at him which he dodged easily.  Shame, it would’ve hit him right in his shiny head.  He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Are you planning on getting dressed sometime today Inquisitor?”

She crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow.  “If I say no?”

“Then I would be forced to drag you out and dress you myself.”

She sighed.  He would do it too.  She knew she needed to get up.  The only problem was that all she wanted to do right now was wallow.

“Fine.  I’m getting up.  Shoo so I can dress.”

Solas inclined his head.  “Of course.”

He was waiting for her once she was ready and they headed down to breakfast together.  Dorian and an unfairly chipper Sera were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.

They walked into the mess hall as one.  She was even smirking against her will at something Sera had said.  Then she froze.

There, sitting at a table in the corner, was Cullen.  She had expected him to be gone before the dawn, leaving instructions for his replacement with a runner.  Instead he was still here, at Skyhold, eating porridge.  He saw her and his gaze burned her.  He looked incredibly unsure.

She noticed that Varric sat next to him, almost like he was keeping Cullen from bolting.  The dwarf gave her a small nod and then went back to his eggs.

“You all right?” Dorian asked from her elbow.

“Yeah…” She breathed in disbelief.  She let Dorian’s hand on her back guide her to their usual table.  She focused on not looking at Cullen.  She meant what she said yesterday.  She would not chase him anymore.  She couldn’t make him want to be here or with her.  But this, she didn’t understand what this meant. 

“Well, this is an interesting development.” Dorian drawled as they sat down, “You did release him, didn’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” She kept her eyes firmly on her plate, deciding that the cranberries in her oatmeal were unbearably fascinating.

“His fickleness is quite annoying.” Solas griped.

She grit her teeth.

“He’s got somethin’ comin’ alright.” Sera muttered.  “Maybe I oughtta steal his breeches.”

She pushed suddenly away from the table, scooping up her bowl.

“Lethallan?” Solas asked.

She looked at her companions and tried to smile.  “I’m not hungry anymore.  I’ll see you all later okay?”

She turned in her bowl and spoon and headed out of the mess hall.  As she left she could feel Cullen’s eyes on her.

\---

The next several days were a carefully balanced dance.  Cullen carried out his duties as if he had never intended to leave.  The Inquisitor resolutely pretended she had never told him he could go.  The others continued to watch them, not happy with the way things were but not sure what to do about it.

She was guarded around Cullen in a way she had never been before, not even in the weeks after he ended things with her.  She never called him by name anymore, referring to him by Commander or Ser or not at all.

In fact most of their conversations consisted of him reporting and her acknowledging the results of a mission and giving him new orders.  It was short and succinct and clinical.

Cullen hated it.

He knew it was entirely his own fault.  He had asked for this.  He had told her he wanted to end things between them and he had been the one to try to leave.  Part of him still wasn’t sure that wasn’t the better plan.

He had no idea how to approach her.

Varric was a solid reassurance, making sure to check up on the Commander at least once a day.  But Varric refused to discuss the Inquisitor.  He told Cullen he was a big boy and would just have to figure this one out himself.

So he did the only thing he could do.  He invited Dorian to a chess game.

When the mage arrived, Cullen was already there, sitting stiffly in his usual spot, the board already set up.

Dorian, with his usual flair, draped himself in his chair.  He rested one arm one the back of the chair and crossed his legs at the knee.  He scrutinized Cullen for long enough that the commander started to shift nervously.  Maybe this had been a mistake.

Just as Cullen was ready to apologize and make his escape, Dorian clapped his hands, sitting forward and making the first move on the board.

“So!  You’ve finally come to me then, have you?”

“Ehm…ahem, well, yes.”  Cullen cautiously moved his piece forward.

“And you want my help getting across the painfully large rift you’ve created between yourself and our lovely Inquisitor.”

“Yes.”

“You know, I’m quite cross with you myself, and not only on her behalf.”

Cullen lifted his eyes from the board to see Dorian watching him seriously.  “Were you even going to say goodbye?”

Cullen looked down in shame.  “I thought you would all be better off without me.  I’m not sure I was wrong.”

Dorian hummed.  He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘backwater uncivilized buffoon’.  “Well, fortunately for you, on top of all my other outstanding qualities, I am a very forgiving man.”  He moved a tower forward to threaten Cullen’s defensive line.

“I need to apologize to her.”

“Yes you do.” Dorian agreed.  “But not for the reason you think.”

Cullen arched an eyebrow.

“Did you frighten her with your withdrawal-induced mania?  Absolutely.  Should you apologize to her for nearly killing her?  Yes and you have.  Never once has she held that against you and you know it.  She forgave you as soon as she woke up.”

Cullen was already shaking his head.  “You didn’t see.  She flinched from me.”

“Of course she did you moronic behemoth!  You had just held her up by her throat!  But it hardly took her a day to get past that.  She knew that wasn’t you and she doesn’t blame you for it, just like, when you’re not a slavering beast, you don’t blame her for being a mage.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Please.” Dorian scoffed, flapping a dramatic hand while Cullen stole his knight.  “Whose shoulder do you think she cried on?  Into whose ear did she whisper all her sorrows?  I am just as close to her as I am to you.  Shame on you for doubting it.” He rapped Cullen’s hand with a pawn.

Cullen rubbed a hand over his chin, a sure sign of distress.  “So, then…”

“You’ve broken her trust in you.  You promised her you would be there for her and you broke that vow.  Until she decided to release you, she was still holding out hope that you would snap out of whatever self-sacrificing miasma you had stumbled into.  She doesn’t trust you to stay or to support her any longer.  _That’s_ what you need to apologize for.”

Cullen’s eyes closed in pain.  He had no doubt that Dorian was telling the truth.  For her to feel that way because of him was just as bad as the physical pain he had caused her in his madness.

“I never meant to be a…a burden to her.”

Dorian snorted.  “Of course you didn’t.  Just like your relentless pursuit of a way out of the Inquisition wasn’t meant to burden her.  For your information, every time you requested to be released, she left the grand hall and cried.  It would’ve broken her.  Someone had to do something.  So I did.”

The Commander looked up from the board, curiosity in his gaze.  “She was never going to let you go.  I just…gave her permission.”

Cullen sighed.

“Are you angry with me?” Dorian asked, capturing Cullen’s castle.

“No.” Cullen sat back in his chair, no longer invested in the game.  “You were protecting her.  I can’t blame you for doing the same thing I’ve been trying to do all along.”

Dorian hummed.  “Quite right.”

For several minutes they both contemplated the board, moving pieces without much focus until it was clear Dorian would win the game.

“I need to show her she can trust me again.”

“Yes.”

“Will you help me?”

“For you, and for her, anything.”  Cullen rose from his seat but Dorian called him back.  “Please, tread carefully.  I care deeply for you, but I won’t stand by you if you hurt her a second time.”

\---

A week.  It had been a whole week and he was still here.  The Inquisitor paced the garden, her hands folded behind her and her brow furrowed.  It was late.  All of Skyhold slept except for her.  She was awake again, despite the exhaustion of her body and mind.

She was so confused.

She prayed to Mythal for answers and then, when none were forthcoming, just for peace.  But to no avail.  Her heart was in turmoil and until she found a way to settle it, there would be no rest for her.

She sank onto a bench in the gazebo and dropped her heavy head into her hands.  Creators deliver her, she didn’t know how much longer she could take this.

A throat clearing had her jumping to her feet and reaching instinctively for her staff, flame already on the tips of her fingers.  Fortunately for whoever surprised her, her staff was in her quarters.  Moonlight lit startled eyes in a familiar face and, if anything, she became more unsettled.  She took two stumbling steps backward and almost fell head over heels over the bench she’d been sitting on.  Not exactly the unaffected façade she had been trying to present.

“Commander!  I didn’t expect to see anyone at this hour.”

His fingers twisted nervously together.  “Yes.  Well.  I was working late and I saw a shadow from my window so I decided to investigate.”

She bit her lip.  “I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

“No!” She looked up sharply.  His hand was extended in front of him.  He let it fall to his side, swallowing heavily.  “I mean…you aren’t, you aren’t a disturbance.”

She nodded once.  “Well…good.”

Just like that they ran out of safe things to say.  A painful silence stretched between them.  She could feel the tension in the air.  It made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, but without the sense of exhilaration.

Finally she couldn’t take it anymore.  “Why are you still here?”

He jumped.  “I-I’m sorry.  I’ll just…I’ll leave you to your evening.”

He started to leave.  “That’s not what I meant.”  He turned back to look at her and she gulped.  She wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to this question but she need to _know_.  “I meant, why are you still _here_ , in Skyhold?  Why didn’t you go?  You finally got what you wanted…”

He cut her off.  “I would like to be clear.  Leaving was never what I _wanted_.”

She waved a hand.  “Technicality.  The question stands.”

He seemed to be deliberating very carefully over his next words.  He took a step forward, then another.  “Let’s just say I got some unwanted advice exactly when I needed it.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “So that’s it?  What about when you change your mind?”

He took another step forward and her breath caught in her chest.  The intensity in his eyes made her shiver.

“I swear to the Maker, I am not going anywhere.”

\---

Over the next couple of days she felt an unconscious weight lifted from her shoulders.  His words rang in her head every time she saw him.  She didn’t want to believe him.  It felt dangerous to believe him.  But just hearing those words, even if they weren’t true, gave her the relief she needed to sleep.

Days and then weeks passed and, against all odds, it seemed he actually was speaking truly.  Whereas before she could barely catch a glimpse of him, now it seemed he was everywhere.  He made a point to greet her in the hallways as they passed.  He took most of his meals in the mess hall, whereas before he would typically either have a runner bring food to his tower or forget to eat entirely.  He attended every court, even if he could only stay for a few minutes.

In short, he was trying to be seen.

It wasn’t that she was unhappy that he had decided to stay.  She just wished she understood what made him change his mind.  She was afraid to hope for what it might mean.

To take her mind off things, she threw herself into her work.  The Inquisition had never run more efficiently.  The instant they had word back from Scout Harding or from court or from one of Leliana’s people, she would summon her advisors to the war room to dole out the next set of responsibilities.

She reviewed missives and approved requisitions until her eyes burned and her back ached from being slumped over a desk.  Whatever sleep she had gained from Cullen’s cryptic vow immediately went up in smoke in her frenzy to be distracted.

She was working late one night, poring over the map in the war room, pointedly ignoring the spears of pain in her head.  Unaddressed campaigns were actually pretty slim on the vine.  The Inquisition’s influence and public favor was at an all-time high so efficiently had they been dispatching answers to requests for aid.  She had a stack of missives at her elbow, all accounted for. 

She rubbed tired fingers into her temples.  They glowed green for a moment but the short healing spell had no effect on her headache.  She sighed.  The lines blurred on the page.  She felt wrung out and slightly disconnected from her body.  There was nothing more she could do tonight but she knew if she went to her bed she would just stare at the ceiling like she had been for the last week.

She pushed herself off from the table.  She should at least try.  Maybe tonight would be different.

She moved sluggishly through the castle, placing a hand on the wall when her legs wobbled.  Josephine’s office was dark.  It must be even later than she thought.

She meant to head for her room, useless though it might be.  Instead, morbid curiosity had her slipping through Solas’ study and out onto the battlements. 

There was still a light on in his tower.  Of course he was still awake.  Of anyone here he probably slept less than she did.

She moved as if in a trance, her feet carrying her across the ramparts towards that light.  As if in a dream, she reached out and pushed the tower door open.

There he was, blonde hair and red cloak and furrowed brow.  He stood leaning on the table, his face lit by the glow of a half dozen candles.  It was just so…Cullen.

She must’ve made some kind of noise, or maybe it was the cold air she was letting in, because he looked up.  His eyes widened. 

“Inquisitor.” He said, sounding surprised.  “Is – is everything all right?”

“You’re here.” She told him, uselessly.  What a foolish thing to say.  Of course he was here, this was his tower.  It’s just, half of her had been expecting to see an empty room.

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” She tried to explain.

His eyes softened.  She took two tentative steps forward before her exhausted and overwrought brain decided to stop communicating with her legs.  Her knees buckled underneath her and she sat down on the floor, hard.

He was beside her in moments.  She held a hand to her spinning head.  He rested a wide palm in the middle of her back, supporting her as she listed to the side.  With a great effort of will she managed to sit up straight.

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked, voice thick with concern.

“I’m…honestly not sure.”

He frowned.  “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

She chuckled without humor.  “Pick a reason.”

He hummed.  She assumed he was agreeing with her.  She should probably go now before she said something stupid.  Something else stupid.  She tried to stand up but her head spun and she swooned.

He caught her, his arms warm and familiar around her.  “Whoa.  Careful now.”

“M’good.  Just tired.”

The next thing she knew she was airborne, wrapped piggyback around Cullen’s shoulders.  He started walking towards the ladder leading to his room, securing her legs around his waist as he went.

“What’re you doing?”

“Putting you to bed.” He told her, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.  “Hold on tight.”

She was too tired to argue.  She let herself rest her head on the fur around his shoulders, reveling in the familiar smell and texture.  If this was all a dream, she hoped she never woke up.

“You’re too light.” He told her conversationally as he climbed the ladder.  “You haven’t been eating right either have you?”

She snorted sleepily, already lulled by the rocking motion of his body.  “You, Commander of Armies and Overworking, are actually giving me a lecture about taking care of myself?”

He chuckled.  “Fair point.”

They reached the upper floor of his tower.  He carried her over to his bed, unwrapping her gently and placing her on the sheets.  She was almost certain this was a dream at this point.

He knelt, removing her boots with tender fingers.  She tilted her head to the side, watching him as he focused.  He was so beautiful.  She wanted to touch his hair.  If this was a dream, shouldn’t she have what she wanted?

She reached out, running her fingers through his golden locks.  He froze, turning to look at her, his eyes intense in the half-light.  He leaned into her hand and she rubbed her thumb over his cheek.  They gazed into each other’s eyes for long moments.

“I don’t want to wake up.” She whispered.

He blinked, seemingly as entranced as she was.  “What?”

“This is the best sleep I’ve had since you were going to leave.  I don’t want to wake up.”

He smiled gently, rising to his feet.  “Legs.” He said, reaching for the coverlet.

She lifted her legs, letting him cocoon her in blankets.

He looked down at her so tenderly.  She wished the real him would look at her like that again.  “Sleep.  I’ll be here when you wake.”

She shut her eyes, a smile on her lips.  Definitely a dream, but such a good one.  His scent surrounded her and she let herself drift away, content for the first time in a long time.

\---

She woke slowly.  Her limbs and mind were heavy with content lethargy.  That was the _best_ sleep she’d had in a very long time.

She stretched luxuriantly, writhing like a cat, before settling back into the pillows with a sigh of contentment.  She ran her hands over the sheets.  These were very nice sheets. 

These were…not her sheets.  She stiffened, opening her eyes.

She looked around.  Cullen’s room.  She was in Cullen’s room.  Holy Halla she was in Cullen’s room!  It hadn’t been a dream!  Mythal preserve her she had made an utter _fool_ of herself!

She sat up so fast her head spun, looking around frantically for her boots.  She needed to get out of here.

Too late.

A blonde head appeared over the top of the ladder, immediately followed by the rest of Cullen.  He smiled that lopsided smile of his when he saw she was awake.

“Good morning.” He said pleasantly.  He was carrying a basket.  She could smell the fresh bread from here.  Her stomach rumbled in spite of herself and he grinned wider.  “How did you sleep?”

“Well, I slept, so that’s automatically better than any other night this week.” She said honestly.

He huffed a laugh, bringing the basket over to the bed.  She turned, trying to be nonchalant about it.  She sat so her legs dangled off the side and pushed the covers away.  Being _in_ his bed with him in the room was…a little much.  This was a little better.

He broke the loaf in two, the warm scent filling the room.  He offered her half.  She stared at it where it sat in his hand.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked.

He quirked an eyebrow.  “Aren’t you hungry?”

She shook her head.  “I meant, you _can’t_ do this.”

“What do you mean?”

She waved her arm around.  “This!  Tucking me in your bed.  Bringing me breakfast.  You can’t just decide you care about me again!  It’s too hard!” She exclaimed.  She snapped her mouth shut, fighting back the outburst that was brimming inside her.  She wasn’t supposed to care enough to get upset with him.

She pushed herself off the bed, walking away so that he couldn’t see her face.  She scooped her boots up off the floor.  “It’s too hard.”

He was quiet for a long moment.  Then she felt the heat of him where he stood behind her.

“I never stopped caring about you.” He murmured sincerely.

She turned, looking up at him.  Her eyes were too bright.  He ached to reach out and comfort her but she held herself stiffly.  He knew his touch wouldn’t be welcome.

“You could’ve fooled me.” She whispered.

He took a deep breath.  “I’ve made…many mistakes.  I’d like to try to make amends.”

“How?”

“I’d like to be your friend.  Again.  I…do you think we could try that?”

She scrutinized him, her arms tight around her torso.  “I…”

“You would be completely in control.  However much, or little, time you want to spend, I’ll accept.  I just…” His golden eyes pled with her.  He looked like nothing so much as a hopefully puppy.

She hesitated, biting her lip.  “O…okay.  Maybe…we could try.”

She was too busy studying her feet to see him smile, but it would’ve taken her breath away.

“Th – thank you.”

\---

Friendship was…slow.  Cullen chafed at the restriction.  With every day that passed he realized exactly what kind of asshole he’d been and he just wanted to fix it and get things back to the way they were; to the way they should be.

But he could see the hesitance in her eyes and the distrust as well.  Dorian was right, as usual.

So he grit his teeth and called upon that self-restraint he was famed for and kept to his word.  They would go at her pace or not at all.

He made sure to be in public places where she would either see him or would hear of him being, even though spending a lot of time around a lot of people wasn’t where he was most comfortable.  He rationalized that if she saw him then she would be reassured of his presence.  If she saw him, she’d be reminded that he’s still here.

He hoped it was working.  If the way she slowly stopped looking surprised at his presence is any indication, it was.

His patience was rewarded when, finally, one day she sought him out not to see if he had any news or to give him a new task, but to see if he would like to share lunch with her.

He was proud of how steady his voice was when he agreed.

They walked down to the mess hall together, neither one saying anything and both keeping a very careful distance between their swinging hands.

When they arrived he was slightly disappointed to see she didn’t mean lunch with _only_ her.  Josephine, Cole, and Solas were there waiting for them.  When he sat, Solas gave him a long look.  It was inscrutable like everything else about the elf, but Cullen got the message.  He was being watched.

At first the silence was awkward.  They weren’t angry at Cullen, not really, not anymore, but they were all resolutely in the Inquisitor’s corner on this one.  They weren’t sure what to say to him.  Cullen wasn’t sure how to make this better either.  His whole body was tense.  He held onto his spoon like it was a lifeline.

Cole hummed happily.  “Stiff like shame, warm like hope, please, I want this to work.” He lilted, smiling warmly at Cullen.

Cole had always made Cullen slightly uncomfortable.  When you had experience with demons like he did, the sensation is inevitable.  But right now Cole’s brutal honesty and innocence were exactly what they all needed to break the ice.  Cullen’s lips tilted upward and he relaxed.  “Indeed.”

Cole lit up, grinning around the table.  “Helping.  I’m helping.”

“Thank you Cole.” The Inquisitor said, placing a warm hand on the spirit-boy’s arm.

“So Commander,” Josephine began, ever the diplomat, “Have you given any thought to attending the fete I mentioned at the last council meeting?  It would be good for us to have a presence there and you are quite popular with the Orlesians.”

Cullen winced.  “I was under the impression that my skills could be put to better use elsewhere.  Anywhere but another Orlesian ball.”

Josephine pursed her lips.  “The Comtess asked for you by name.”

Cullen narrowed his eyes.  “You’re going to make me go to this aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“And we’re going to make you wear the brand new suit that Madame le Fer has commissioned for you.” Leliana added wickedly, coming up behind him to rest her hands on his shoulders.

He glanced up at the grinning spymaster.  “Have I ever mentioned that you are my least favorite?”

“We all must do our duty Ser.” Josephine said with a smile.

“The two of you are a menace when put together.”

The whole table chuckled.  Cullen watched the Inquisitor laugh merrily.  Some embarrassment was worth it if she smiled like that again.

The remainder of the meal was pleasant.  It might have been a test because after that the Inquisitor sought him out more and more often.

They resumed their weekly chess games in the gazebo.  They had more meals together, sometimes with a crowd of their friends and other times just the two of them.  She came to him in triumph when she finally found the last piece of one of those mosaics she’d been collecting.

They were learning to be comfortable with one another again.  He was happy to share every moment with her so, of course, when she invited him to join her and the Chargers for drinks at the Herald’s Rest, he absolutely did not say no.

\---

She watched Cullen in amusement.  She, Sera, Dorian, Iron Bull, and whoever of the Chargers were free met routinely for drinks at the end of a week.  This week she decided it was time to invite Cullen along.

The evening started off innocently enough.  They sat around a table, each sipping from a mug of ale and chatting amicably about whatever crossed their minds.  It was comfortable, safe.  When she caught Cullen smiling at her across the table, she didn’t even have to think about it before smiling warmly back at him.

Then Sera decided to liven things up.  About an hour ago she got Cullen to very gamely submit to her insistence that he participate in a drinking game she called ‘Retribution’.  It was only after he agreed and took his first drink that Sera explained that ‘Retribution’ was for being a ‘right arse hole’.  The purpose: to get him, the ‘arse hole’, horribly, embarrassingly drunk.

Never one to break rules, Cullen had squared his shoulders, clenched his jaw, and held his hand out for the next drink.

She and Dorian had slowed down long ago.  Now they were watching, very amusedly, as their Knight-Commander made a fool of himself.  Sera and Bull were three sheets to the wind as well, but they always ended up like that so it wasn’t nearly as funny.

For her part, the Inquisitor’s head was comfortably buzzing.  She felt silly and relaxed.  Her mug of ale was cradled in her hand and her booted feet rested in Dorian’s lap.  He sprawled in his chair, his own feet stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

“He’s not doing too poorly.”

She hummed at Dorian, watching Cullen closely.

He tipped back another pitcher of whatever Sera was pouring him, grimacing at the taste before wiping his mouth dramatically and slamming the flagon back on the table.  Bull cheered and Sera cackled madly.  “Another for the Arse Hole!” They all shouted.

Cullen looked a little green around the edges but he accepted the fresh mug.

“I think it’s time for the Inquisitor to step in.” She murmured.

Dorian chuckled.  “Yes indeed.  Do go rescue our poor Commander from Sera’s clutches.”

She walked around the table to stand behind Cullen.  He tilted his head back to look at her with a goofy grin.  “Inquisitor!” He exclaimed happily.  “Look, I think ‘m winning!”  He held up his foaming mug.

She smirked and patted his shoulder.  “You’re right.  In fact, you’ve won!  The game’s over now.”

Cullen cheered while all of the Chargers booed.  Sera blew a raspberry in her direction.  “You’re a spoilsport you are.”

She rolled her eyes.  “C’mon Sera.  I think he’s been punished enough.”

“Oh fine.” Sera pouted.

“C’mon Cullen, time to go.” She tried to lift him up.  “Oh Creators.  Dorian, a little help over here?!”

“You look like you’ve got it well in hand to me!”

She glared at him until he chuckled, unfolding his legs and making his way over to her.  He wrapped one of Cullen’s arms around his shoulders, levering the other man to his feet.  “Come along little Templar.  Let’s get you into bed.” Dorian leered.

“Huh?” Cullen said, too disoriented to understand.

The Inquisitor swatted Dorian on the back of the head.  “No taking advantage of him in his fragile state.” She commanded, wrapping Cullen’s other arm around her shoulders.

“You really are a spoilsport.” Dorian joked.

They made it out of the tavern and into the cold night air.

“Where to?” Dorian asked.

She squinted contemplatively at Cullen’s tower before shaking her head.  “We’ll never get him up that stupid ladder.  Let’s just take him to my quarters.”

They staggered through the keep, Cullen’s size and inability to control his own feet making for slow going.  Eventually they made it to her rooms.  Dorian dumped Cullen onto her bed with a grunt.  Cullen giggled when his body bounced on the soft mattress.

“I can’t wait to tell Varric about this.” Dorian muttered, watching Cullen amusedly.

“Don’t you dare.” She hissed.

Dorian rolled his eyes.  “I leave him to your tender ministrations my liege.” He said with a dramatic bow.  He left her alone with Cullen.

She sighed, looking down at the man on her bed.  “Oh Cullen.  What have you gotten yourself into?”

She knelt, slipping his boots off.  He snorted at the sensation, holding his hand in the air and looking at his fingers in fascination.

“Come on, up you get.”  She grabbed his hand, pulling.  “Creators you’re heavy.”

He sat up with a groan, letting her pull him to his feet.  Then, since he couldn’t lay on the bed, he flopped on her.

“Ooof!” Her knees almost buckled under his weight.  “Okay then…”  She pulled the coverlet back and, with a flipping motion, turned so that he slid off her back and onto the bed.  His head hit the pillow and he chuckled again.  She lifted his legs into the bed, pulling the coverlet over all of him. 

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized before how much of you there was.” She perched on the edge of the bed, running a gentle finger through his hair.

“You’re pretty.”

She smirked.  “You are going to hate yourself in the morning.”

His brow furrowed and he frowned.  “Why don’ you hate me?  You should hate me.”

Her grin faded.  “I don’t hate you Cullen.  I couldn’t hate you even when I wanted to.  I just…”  She shook her head and made to rise.  He caught her hand.

“Stay?  Please?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He tugged on her hand.  “Please?  Miss you.”

She looked down at him, so disoriented and helpless.  How could she say no?  She moved around to the other side of the large bed and sat on top of the covers.  He immediately turned, moving closer so he could rest his forehead against her thigh and wrap his arm over her legs.

She sighed.  She reached down to stroke gentle fingers through his hair and across his damp brow.  He snuffled happily, pressing closer to her.

She leaned her head back against the headboard.  She would stay just until he fell asleep.

She woke up with a jolt, the memory of whatever dream already fading.  The room was grey with predawn light and she was warm, much warmer than she should be.  She shifted experimentally and felt a weight across her waist and a heavy heat at her back.

She closed her eyes, her throat sinking into the pit of her stomach.  The Creators must hate her.  She had fallen asleep.  She had fallen asleep and slid down in the night to cuddle with her drunken ex-lover.  Mortification washed over her like cold water.

She had to get out of here.

She slid carefully out from under Cullen, using every ounce of stealth and grace afforded her by her Dalish heritage.  When his hand hit the mattress he snorted.  She froze, staring at him with bated breath.  He snuffled and rubbed his face in the pillow, but he didn’t wake.  Her toes hit the floor and she was moving, scooping up her boots, her staff, and her pack.

A trip sounded exactly like what she needed right now.

\---

“…so we would be gone for about a month.”

“A month?” Leliana repeated.

“Maybe a little longer.  It’s important that the Emprise is truly stabilized.  The Red Templar presence in the mine was expunged a while ago, but there’s still civil unrest in the area.” The Inquisitor explained. 

“Why,” Cullen cleared his throat.  “Why so long?”

Her eyes slid over to his before refocusing on the map.  “Like I said, we want to leave Emprise du Leon in better condition than when we arrive.  A month is my estimation for how long that will take.”

“I think it’s an excellent idea.” Josephine encouraged.  “The Inquisition is highly respected but this can only improve our public image.  Besides, it has been a long time since the Inquisitor has been seen among the people for anything more than a short foray to the Hinterlands.”

“Who will you take with you?” Leliana wanted to know.

“Dorian, Blackwall, and Iron Bull.  We work well together and stacking the team with power over stealth will only help us in such an unstable area.  If we run into a situation where we need a rogue I’ll send for Cole.  He’ll be able to get there quickly.”

“It sounds like you have this all planned out.” Cullen said hollowly.

“Mmhmm.” She agreed.

“Well, if that’s all, I wish you luck on your expedition Inquisitor.” Leliana bowed and took her leave.  Josephine followed her.

“Inquisitor.  If I could have a moment of your time?” Cullen’s voice stopped her in front of the door.  She grit her teeth.  She had been hoping to avoid this conversation.

“How can I help you Commander?”

He approached her carefully, like she would bolt any second.  He probably wasn’t far off.  She felt taught as a bowstring. 

“What happened last night?”

“Nothing.” She said, too quickly.

His brow furrowed.  “It’s only, I woke in your quarters this morning.”

She shrugged.  “You were drunk.  We thought you should probably sleep somewhere where you were less likely to break your neck.  In your condition that crow’s nest you call a room was a safety hazard.”

“We?”

“Dorian and I.  We carried you up after Sera finally conceded that you were drunk enough to no longer be an ‘arse hole’.”

“If I slept in your bed, where did you sleep?”

She blanched.  “I…”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed shrewdly.  “I see.”

Her own ire rose in response to the smug look on his face.  “You asked me to stay.  I fell asleep.  In my own bed by the way.  There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I agree.”

“Like I said, it was nothing.”

“Now that, I don’t agree with.”

“It was nothing.” She insisted.

His eyes flashed.  “Why?  Why does it have to be nothing?  Is this why you’re leaving?”

Her eyes skittered away from him.

“I…I thought things were better between us…”

“They are.” She exclaimed.

“Then why…”

She shook her head.  “I have to go.”

He huffed in frustration.  “Please, just, talk to me…”

“I have to _go._ ” She insisted, inching back towards the door.  “The others are waiting for me.  Please, just, drop this.”

Cullen sighed heavily.  He held up placating hands.  “I’m sorry.  Of course you’re right.”

She blinked at his sudden surrender.  “Yes.  Well, then…”

“Have a safe trip.”

She nodded jerkily, taking one last look at his golden eyes and golden hair, storing up the memory for the long month ahead.  Then she slipped out of the door.

\---

She rode out of Skyhold like wild dogs were chasing her.  Her companions were hard pressed to keep pace with her.  She imagined she could feel Cullen’s gaze from his tower where he was sure to be watching her leave.  Watching and brooding.

She needed to get out of here and fast.

She didn’t stop until the sun began to set and Dorian started to complain he would get saddle sores if they didn’t stop riding right this instant.

Iron Bull ribbed him good-naturedly but even he looked relieved when she called a stop.

They made camp in a copse of trees at the base of the mountain.  They had used this location many times before and it was saturated with latent magic.  It remembered their presence and it was easy for her to raise wards around their campsite.

Dorian sauntered over to her where she was laying logs for a fire.  “That was certainly a dramatic exit.  Care to share?”

“Not really.” She grumbled.

“Fine, I won’t force you, though I assume it has something to do with the blonde Templar that spent the night in your quarters.”

“Dorian.” She warned.

“I didn’t ask a single question.” He argued innocently.

She sighed, waving a hand and staring into the roaring flames that sprang up.

Dorian squeezed her shoulder.  “You know I’m only concerned for you dearest.”

She rubbed his hand in thanks.  “I’m alright Dorian.  I promise.”

“Hmm.”  She knew he didn’t believe her but he left her to her musings, instead going and helping Bull to pitch the tents.

She was grateful for the reprieve.

They arrived in Emprise du Leon three days into their journey and she threw herself, almost viciously, into the region.  They routed bandits, killed wolves, and explored a cave or two.  They also collected whatever metals or plants looked useful.  They doled out whatever the townsfolk needed and carted up the rest to be sent back to Skyhold.

And that was their routine.

Wake in the morning, eat something light, and traverse the countryside like a flock of vengeful angels.

About two weeks into their trip they stopped at an Inquisition outpost to resupply.  The quartermaster found her after they’d eaten, their first fresh meal in weeks.

“Your Ladyship.”

She smiled at the woman.  “Do you have any requisitions for me?”

“Not today your ladyship.  But I do have a letter for you.”  She held out an envelope. 

The Inquisitor accepted it.  “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

The Inquisitor walked through the camp, popping open the letter and unfolding the contents.  She missed a step when she saw the handwriting.  She looked furtively around her before ducking into a nearby tent.  She sat down on a barrel to read.

_Inquisitor,_

_I hope all is well and that your journey continues to bear fruit.  The reports you have sent us so far all appear promising.  Things are well at Skyhold.  Leliana has sends thanks for the new agents you’ve sent her way.  Josephine continues to host the visiting nobility in your absence.  Both send their well wishes._

_We have received shipments of both herbs and furs.  The healers and tanners thank you for keeping them in mind on your travels.  Our scouts and agents abroad are all safe and report that Thedas seems to be in peace for the most part._

_We continue to receive new recruits and pilgrims alike.  For all its size, we may need to consider expanding Skyhold into the mountain before long._

_I must be honest.  I did not write you to speak of deliveries of supplies and the status of our troops._

_I must apologize for my behavior prior to your departure.  I swore to you that whatever relationship we might have would be at your discretion.  I fear my impatience and eagerness got the better of me.  I am truly sorry._

_I hope I have not once again shattered your trust in me.  I hope, on your return, we might pick up where we were.  I admit, I miss your company greatly._

_I will not burden you further._

_We at Skyhold eagerly await your return._

_Respectfully,_

_Cullen_

She traced her fingers over his words.  She hadn’t meant to worry him.

When she woke up that morning it had felt like the walls were closing in around her.  She was becoming attached to him all over again and setting herself up for the same pain as before.

She knew objectively that wasn’t fair to Cullen.  He seemed to be doing everything in his power to earn her trust again.  But her heart was – not afraid exactly – just, well, if, hypothetically, she were to be with Cullen again and he decided to leave her _again_ , she would have no one to blame but herself. 

She wanted to believe her fears were unfounded.  Cullen was a _good_ man.  One of the best.  And she knew he had been acting out of some misguided need to protect her.  It was the only thing that made sense.

She sighed in frustration at herself.  Her thoughts were only going in circles.  She folded the letter carefully, tucking it into her armor, close to her heart.

“Inquisitor!” Dorian called.

She patted her chest to make sure the letter was secure.  “I’m coming!”

\---

Later that evening she sat on a log by the edge of their campfire.  Despite her decision to put it out of her mind, she was reading over Cullen’s letter once again, no closer to knowing what to do than she had been when they left Skyhold.

Her index finger worried the top corner of the paper as she tried to divine a solution from the words.

“That’s gonna burst into flame if you rub it any harder.” Iron Bull’s deep voice rumbled.  She jumped, folding the letter and stowing it quickly in her coat. 

Bull raised an eyebrow at her antics.  She blushed, grinning apologetically.  “Sorry.”

He took a seat on the log next to her.  “Wanna talk about it?”

“No…Yes…I don’t know.”

He chuckled.  “Alright then, how bout I talk?”  He took a long drag out of a flask he pulled out of his pocket.  He offered it to her but she shook her head.  “It’s a good thing we resupplied today.  We were almost out of health potions.  That could’ve gotten real sticky real fast.”

She hummed in agreement.

“I noticed the crates came from Skyhold  Must’ve been Solas’ special brew.  Good stuff.”

She nodded absently.

“Some letters in the supplies too.”

She stiffened but Bull acted like he didn’t notice.  “Sera wrote me asking me to find some more o’ those bottles of random booze that pop up in people’s houses.  It’ll strip paint but man does it hit the spot.  Bein’ the Inquisitor, I’m sure you got some letters of your own.  Coulda sworn I saw one in there with Cullen’s seal on it.”  He shot her a sidelong look.  “This doesn’t happen to be about that does it?”

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “You know, I always forget you’re Ben Hassrath.”

Bull grinned widely.  “That’s what makes me good.”

She sighed, dropping her head in her hands.  “I don’t know what to _do_ Bull.”

“Hmm.  Well, let me ask you this then.  D’you trust him?”

“That’s a…loaded question.”

Bull chuckled.  “Fair enough.  Well, I assume you trust him as a Commander.  You know he can lead the Inquisition army and do it well.”

She was already nodding before Bull stopped talking.  “Yes of course.  That was never in doubt.  Cullen’s an excellent commander and advisor.  The Inquisition couldn’t run without him.”

“I figured you’d say something like that.  And I agree.  So, the real question is if you trust him as a man.”

She bit her lip.

“Do you think he’ll hurt you again?”

“…Not the way you’re implying.  Cullen’s terrified of injuring me, or anyone, again and that’s what makes me confident that he never will.  I was never really worried about that in the first place.’

“Then what are you worried about?”

 She squeezed her hands until her knuckles were white.  “Loving him gives him so much power over me.  He can do so much damage without even meaning to.  That’s what I’m worried about.”

Bull was quiet for a long minute, slowly dissecting a blade of grass in his large fingers.  “Y’know, I don’t really think you are.”

She met his eyes in surprise to see him watching her with such understanding that it made her breath catch.  Her shoulders sagged.  And that’s what it came down to.  She knew what she wanted.  She was just afraid to take it.

Bull patted her on the back.  “Don’t think so hard about it boss.  Just do what feels right.  If it bites you on the ass, well, my boys and I’ll be around to bite it right back for you.”

She chuckled weakly.  “Thanks Bull.”

With a grunt he pushed his hands on his knees and stood up.  “’Night Boss.”

“Goodnight.”

The next morning they started heading back to Skyhold.

\---

“Commander.”

Cullen looked up from his work.  “Solas.  This is a surprise.”  He didn’t think he could remember a single time Solas had ever sought him out.

“Indeed.  Would you consent to walk the ramparts with me?”  The elf’s face revealed nothing.

“Ehm…I am rather busy…”

“I understand.  It will not take long.”

“…Very well.” Cullen gestured towards the door.  “Lead the way.”

They walked for several minutes in silence until they were far from any patrols.  Finally Solas said, “She is well.”

Cullen looked at him sharply.  There was no doubt which ‘she’ Solas was referring to.

“You’ve had word from her?”  Cullen asked eagerly.  It had been almost three weeks since the Inquisitor’s party left Skyhold, two and a half since he sent his letter.  There had been no response.  The wait was beginning to eat at him.

“No.”

Cullen wanted to slap his forehead.  “Then…?”

“Sometimes, we dream together.”

Cullen frowned.  “Forgive my ignorance, but I don’t know what that means.”

“Ignorance is only a sin if one does not strive to correct it.” Solas encouraged.  “When I say we dream together, I mean that sometimes she and I meet in the Fade.”

“Why?” Cullen asked, unable to avoid the edge of jealousy in his voice.

“To talk.  Much the same way that you and Dorian talk over your chess games only our bodies are not conscious.  Why else?”

When Cullen was silent Solas sighed.  “Whatever you are thinking, I promise you are wrong.  She and I are friends.  You have nothing to worry about Commander.”

Cullen didn’t respond but some of the tension left his shoulders.

“In fact, that is the reason I wished to speak to you.  She told me of your letter.”

“She got it?”

“Indeed.  And I will tell you, she is in danger of falling as much in love with you as she ever has been.”

Cullen chuckled darkly.  “I’m not so sure about that.”

“I assure you it is the truth.  I know her well.  There is a different kind of understanding that one gains when walking the Fade with another.  I can tell that, even now, her spirit reaches out for yours.  You are bound, for better or for worse.”

Solas took a deep breath.  “But that does not mean I must stand idly by.”

“What do you mean?” Cullen asked, clasping his hands loosely behind his back as they walked.  A stiff breeze stirred his hair and the sunlight glinted off of Solas’ shaved skull.

“I think of her as…she is…dear to me.  I wish only for her happiness.”  Solas stopped him by stepping in front of him.  The elf’s eyes were hard, full of promise, and, somehow, ancient.  “I will not allow her to be hurt again.”

Cullen had the impression that he should be frightened.  There was something about Solas right now that gave Cullen pause.  But he had only respect for the elf.

“Believe it or not, you aren’t the first person to say that to me.”

“Then you know it is no idle threat.”

Cullen smirked sardonically.  “No.  But you should know I have no intent to repeat the mistakes I made.”

“Intent is worthless.” Solas dismissed.

“I disagree, but I misspoke regardless.  I will not hurt her again.  And if I do, I will come to you myself.”

Solas blinked.  “I am…pleased to hear that you understand what is at stake.”

Cullen smiled.  “I love her.”

“That is one of your few redeeming qualities at the moment.  That she loves you is another.”

Cullen started.  “Has she…ahem…she said that?”

Solas smiled, a rare event.  “Do not despair Commander.  She does not tell me everything, but I know her enough to say with confidence that all will be well.  Love her, cherish her, and we will have no problem between us.”

They had made a full circuit of the ramparts and come back around to Cullen’s office.  Cullen reached out a hand, clasping Solas’ forearm.  “Thank you.”

Solas inclined his head, squeezing Cullen’s arm firmly.  “Good day Commander.”

The elf went off across the ramparts and back towards his study, leaving Cullen with much to ponder.

If he hadn’t already been impatient for the Inquisitor’s return, he certainly would be now.

\---

That Cullen wasn’t there to greet them as they trotted into the Skyhold courtyard was a small disappointment for the Inquisitor.  But she understood.  Unfortunately the demands of the Inquisition did not stop, not even for them.

She followed his example, seeing to all of her duties.  She made sure that her horse was taken care of and her companions were on their way to either a long bath, a large meal, or a bed.  She met with Josephine, turning over the stack of letters and journals found in abandoned houses along the way.  Cassandra listened in for that conversation.  She checked on the status of the forge and made light talk with the courtiers who had traveled a long way to see her and had been forced to content themselves with Josephine for the last five weeks.

She made sure to bathe before talking to the nobility.

The sky was dark before she was finally able to slip away.  She checked his tower first but he wasn’t there.

She found him in the war room, moving markers around to reflect the reports in his hand.

“Commander.” She greeted.

He looked up, smiling at the sight of her.  “Inquisitor.  You’ve returned.”  He shot a glance at the window, his eyes widening in surprise to see it was dark outside.  “My apologies, I meant to meet you when you got back.”

She was practically quivering with nerves.  Her heart was racing like a startled hare.  She didn’t think she could possibly make small talk with him right now.  “Do you have a moment?  There are some things I’d like to discuss with you?”

His eyes widened and he put the papers down with validating alacrity.  “Of course.  I am at your pleasure.  As always.”

His eagerness went a small way towards calming her nerves and she led him out to the garden.

When they arrived she stopped, standing and studying her shoes awkwardly.

They both spoke at the same time.

“Was there…”

“How have you…”

Cullen cleared his throat.

She looked up, wide-eyed.  “What?”

He shifted uncomfortably.  “Was there something you wanted to say to me?”

“Yes.  Right.  I…received your letter.  Thank you…for that.”

He ducked his head.  “You’re welcome.  I meant what I said.  I hope you can forgive me.”

“I do.  I did.”  She took a sharp breath.  Don’t think too hard about it.  “Cullen.  I forgave you a long time ago.”

“Y-you did?”

She nodded.  “Yes.  How could I not?  You did everything you could to re-earn my trust.”

“Why - why did you run from me then?” He asked.

“I got scared.” She admitted.  “To be that close to you again…if we, if I had you again only for you to change your mind,” She shook her head, “I don’t know if I would make it through that a second time.”

He came to her then, taking her hands in his.  They were warm and rough and familiar.  She shivered.  “You are the strongest person I have ever met.  And while I have no doubt you can survive anything, I swear to you, I will not repeat my mistakes.”  He bent to press his forehead to hers, looking deeply into her teal eyes.  “I will not lose you again.”

Her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat.  “Cullen…”

“I love you.” He breathed, unable to hold back any longer.  “I will always love you even if we’re only ever friends.  You are…my heart.  Ma vhenan.”

She blinked in surprise.  “When did you learn that?”

He grinned.  “Solas may have given me some advice.”

She smirked.  “Well, if even Solas is on your side…” She joked.  “You know I was pretty sure he was going to try to kill you when he saw what had happened.”

“Yes well, he may have made a threat or two as a prelude to that advice.”

“That does sound like him.”

Cullen smiled.  “Do you think we could stop talking about Solas for a moment?”

“Right.  Sorry.” She said with a giggle.

His hands tightened around hers, making the smile fall from her lips.  His eyes captured her.  “You said…you said you’d forgiven me.  Which is more than I deserve but, is…is that all?”

“No.” She breathed.

“Then…?”

“I love you Cullen.  I never stopped.”

“Please.” He begged.

“I want…”

“What do you want?”

“I want to be with you.” She breathed.

His lips were on hers before the words had fully escaped her mouth.  He swallowed them, keeping them for himself.  He kissed her like she was the air he needed to breathe.  Perhaps she was.  It felt like he hadn’t been able to breathe fully until this moment.  Their hands were still entwined together.  He slipped one of his free to wrap it carefully around the small of her back and pull her one step, two steps closer to him until they were pressed together.

He broke from her mouth and just held her tightly, like he wanted to fold her into his body. He lifted her off her feet he held her so close.   She held him just as desperately, burying her face into his skin.

“I love you.” She breathed into his neck.

“I love you.” He sobbed, holding her tightly.  “I love you, Maker, I love you.”

She curled fingers between his neck and his pauldrons, one of the only places she could touch and he would feel it.  “Thank you for being patient.”

“No.  Thank you.” He murmured fervently.  “I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s for me to decide.  And my decision is you.”

He sighed in relief.  She reveled in the feeling of his skin under her fingertips.

The road had been long and winding and so arduous there were times she wasn’t sure she could take another step.  But they had weathered it and found their way back to each other.  They would always be the stronger for it.

Nothing would keep them apart again.

_FIN_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I in no way condone a relationship where someone harms you against your will. If anyone ever does to you what Cullen does, get out. It doesn’t matter if they’re addicted to something or not. No second chances. Get out. For the purposes of this fic, obviously, the rules are different. But that’s why this is fiction.
> 
> I have a lot of doubts about this fic. Parts of it seemed too slow and other parts seemed like they were missing something. I had a really hard time with the resolution in particular. Maybe because the kind of things my Inquisitor was feeling are things I struggle with as well. There are things I want to try, things I know I want for myself and that will make me happier, but I’m very afraid to take risks if the outcome isn’t guaranteed. 
> 
> That’s what she’s going through here, that struggle to trust Cullen when she can’t possibly know with certainty that he won’t leave her again under the guise of protecting her. Allowing a character to earn trust back is really difficult for me to write. I hope it came across in a believable way and I hope you all enjoyed this fic. I’m considering a short, fluffy follow on because, well, I can’t resist fluff. But we’ll see.
> 
> Thanks again for reading. I’d love to hear what you thought of this.
> 
> Some Notes on Character Interpretations:
> 
> On Varric: I see him as kind of the quirky uncle. Into weird stuff that everyone pretends to hate but secretly finds endearing. And he gives great tough love advice.
> 
> On Solas: At least for an elven inquisitor, if you don’t end up romancing him and he didn’t leave at the end of the game, I see him acting as kind of an older brother/butler. Him being in her room is totally platonic. He takes care of her because that’s just sort of what he does. Also, he’s a neat freak.
> 
> On Dorian: I think most of us will agree that behind all the bluster, showmanship, and flirtation, he’s actually very caring and sensitive. He’s the Inquisitor’s best friend. He’s also Cullen’s best friend which makes this situation really hard on him.
> 
> On Iron Bull: He’s a very honest character. He’s straightforward and no-nonsense which is why I think everyone forgets that he’s actually trained to get secrets out of people. He’s also easy to talk to and he’ll give it to you straight in a way that no one else will. During their conversation at the end of the fic, that’s exactly what the Inquisitor needs. She doesn’t need someone to coddle her and tell her to protect her heart. Iron Bull is good at telling what someone needs apart from what they want and he cares enough to give them what they need, even if it’ll be hard to hear.


End file.
